


boy, it's nights like this

by somehowunbroken



Series: tonight, tonight [6]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2017 Memorial Cup, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:16:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11021763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: They're going to thefinal.





	boy, it's nights like this

**Author's Note:**

> - _THEY'RE GOING TO THE FINAL_
> 
> -okay, okay, so i wore penguin socks for the last game, because my otter socks failed and the penguins had just won the night before. WHAT ARE THE MAGIC SOCKS FOR THIS GAME.
> 
> -i might be too invested in this sock thing.
> 
> -thanks to ari for looking this over <3
> 
> -title is from ["never say die" by the dixie chicks.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7353UF5UDnc)

"Hell yes!" Taylor crows as he walks into the locker room. He looks a little wild as he sits in his stall, smile shining on his face, but Dylan feels pretty much the same, so he just claps Taylor on the helmet as he walks to his own stall.

"Game winner," Fellows crows, shoulder-checking Dylan lightly as he passes. "Nice one, Stromer."

"I try," Dylan says, grinning at him.

"We know," at least three guys shout in chorus. Alex is one of them, and he's smiling so hard it looks like his face might freeze that way. Dylan can't help smiling back, and he doesn't really try. They're going to the final; they're going to play for the Memorial Cup. He's allowed to be as happy as he wants.

The locker room is a mess of noise as they all strip out of their gear; the shower feels good, Dylan has to admit, but he's also looking forward to his own shampoo back at the hotel. The guys are all in great moods as they dry off and change into sweats and tee shirts. Dylan's so proud of them all, so happy he gets to be here and experience this with them, that for a moment he doesn't know what he should even do.

He's saved from having to decide when Timpy stands up and claps his hands. Dylan has to bite his lip to keep from laughing; Timpy very suddenly has the attention of everyone in the room, as if he's leading a class of kindergarteners. Timpy surveys them all before speaking.

"I'd just like to thank you all for the goal support," he says, putting his hand over his heart. "It means a lot."

"Fuck you," someone yells cheerily.

Timpy goes on, unperturbed. "I especially want to give a little love to Captain Game-Winner," he says, grinning at Dylan. Then he whoops, and the rest of the guys join in, yelling and cat-calling.

He should know it's coming, but for some reason he doesn't; one minute he's sitting in his stall, and the next Darren is yanking him up and crushing him in a hug. Someone else crashes into his back pretty soon after that, and it's not long before Dylan is in the middle of a giant team-wide bear hug.

Alex somehow ended up right next to him, and as everyone else starts peeling away, he steps a little closer. "Sick goal," he says, smiling up at Dylan.

"Sick assist," Dylan replies, smiling back. He glances around; everyone's gone back to their stalls, with the notable exception of Foegs, who's standing a foot away with both eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face.

"What?" Alex asks, jutting his chin out a little. Nobody has given them shit, but Dylan knows Alex is always braced for it. It makes him a little sad, honestly, but it's not like he doesn't get it, not like he isn't the same sometimes.

"Nothing," Foegs says, raising his hands a little. "Did you guys let the maid service in today?"

Dylan shoots a look at Alex, but he looks just as confused as Dylan is. After a moment, he turns back to Foegs. "Uh, yes? Why?"

"Party in the captain's room," Foegs announces to the room at large. Dylan rolls his eyes; he wouldn't have protested if Foegs had actually asked, which is good, because the immediate cheers and whoops would have drowned out anything he could have said.

"I guess we have to put off our shower," Alex says, sighing like he's put-upon.

"We'll deal," Dylan says, squeezing Alex's shoulder gently before shoving him back towards his stall. "We've got a party to host."

-0-

It's super low-key; honestly, Dylan was expecting it to be that way, and he's pretty glad that he was right. The tournament format is kind of brutal, and they're coming off of a long season. Nobody wants to waste the energy they've got left before the game on Sunday. They open the doors that join their room with Foegs' and Timpy's next door, and the guys all cram in, clumping together on the beds and chairs and floor. Someone finds an old Chris Farley movie on the television, and soon they've got it going in both rooms, everyone laughing together for a while.

Dylan's sitting on his bed, Alex tucked against one side and Maks stretched out on the other, Taylor sprawled across their feet. Fellows, Darren, and Girhns are on the other bed in their room, and from the looks of it, Girhns is about five seconds from falling asleep. Gera and Vanya are speaking in low Russian somewhere on the floor; Dylan can't understand a word of it, so there's no swearing involved, and their voices sound calm enough, so Dylan lets it go.

"Hey, Stromer," Murdaca says, sticking his head in from the other room once the movie winds down. "Anything you wanted to say before we wrap this thing up? Some of the guys want to get to sleep."

At that, Maks lets out a really unsubtle yawn, but he looks guilty enough after he finishes that Dylan doubts it was faked. "Me too," he says sheepishly.

Dylan grins. "Nah. Everyone get good sleep, blah blah, be sharp for skate in the morning."

Murdaca salutes him lazily. "Night, then."

"Night," Fellows says, shifting a little and looking at Girhns. He glances up at Darren. "I think he's out."

Darren nods. "Do we leave him here, or do we get him back to his own room?"

"He can stay," Dylan offers. "Brinks and I'll share."

Maks laughs and shakes his head, getting off of the bed. "Nah, I'll haul him back with me," he says. "I mean, you guys can share anyway, but I'm not leaving the kid here to possibly witness things."

"As if we have the energy to get up to _things_ ," Dylan says, rolling his eyes.

Alex huffs a laugh and throws one of his legs over Dylan's. "I mean, there's always that risk, though."

Dylan puts his hand on Alex's thigh and waggles his eyebrows at Fellows, who's looking at them with a little bit of horror. "I guess that's true."

Gera's head pops up from the other side of the other bed, and Dylan flinches a little. He'd almost forgotten he and Vanya were down there. "We are leaving," he says, looking a little alarmed. Before Dylan can say anything, he gets up and hauls Vanya after him, and they disappear into Timpy and Foegs' room.

"Okay, I'm with the kids: I suddenly need to be literally anywhere but here," Fellows says. "Maks, you need a hand?"

"I'm not gonna complain about the help," Maks says, leaning over and shaking Girhns' shoulder. "He's not gonna wake up all the way, so a spare set of hands would help."

"I volunteer," Fellow says solemnly. He gets up off the bed and sticks his head into the other rom. "We're heading out. Good win, boys."

Whoever's left in the other room echoes it back to him, and Fellows turns and bends over, hauling Girhns upright. It takes him and Maks a few minutes to get him upright, and Girhns spends most of that time blinking sleepily around him.

"Should we follow them?" Taylor asks when they manage to make it out the door. "We can help if they need it, and we can take hilarious pictures if they don't."

"Nice," Darren says approvingly. "I like it."

"Let's get blackmail pictures," Taylor says, getting up. He pats Dylan's shin when he stands. "Nice goal."

"Right back at you," Dylan replies. "All three of them. Refs can't count."

"Story of my life," Taylor says, putting a hand to his heart. "I'll make it. Somehow."

"Score four next time," Dylan suggests. "Then even if they take one away, you still get a hatty."

"Don't jinx him," Alex hisses, pinching Dylan's side.

Darren snorts. "We'll do our best to make it happen," he says, clapping Taylor on the shoulder as the head out. "Night, guys."

Dylan waves as they leave, then turns to Alex. "Jinxes, huh?" he asks, a little amused. Alex isn't the most superstitious guy on their team, not by a long shot, but he has his moments.

"Yes," Alex says firmly. "If you just say it like that--"

"It was okay for you to do it after last game," Dylan interjects. "What gives?"

"Uh, duh, you were sad and I could cheer you up," Alex says, rolling his eyes. "Now we're all happy, and you're just throwing shit out there."

"Hmm," Dylan says, trying not to grin. "How about this? You're gonna win CHL player of the year tomorrow."

"Stop," Alex whines, rolling until he's on top of Dylan. He's trying not to smile, too, but he's doing a much better job of it than Dylan is. "You're the worst."

"And then on Sunday," Dylan starts, and Alex moves his arms up and collapses on top of Dylan, all of his weight hitting Dylan squarely. He's laughing as he buries his face against Dylan's neck.

"You're the worst," Alex repeats, but Dylan can feel him smiling.

He reaches up to push his fingers through Alex's hair. "Nah, you don't mean that."

Alex props himself back up, a considering look on his face. "I guess I don't," he finally agrees, leaning in to brush his mouth against Dylan's.

There's a loud cough from the other side of the room, and Dylan jerks his head to the side. Timpy's standing in the doorway between their rooms, eyebrow well into his hairline. "I'm just gonna close this," he says, mild as ever. "You guys have a good night, and please remember how thin the walls are here."

"Whoops," Alex says innocently. "Thanks for all the saves, Timpy. You're the best."

"I am," Timpy agrees. "Go to sleep."

He leaves, locking the door behind him, and Alex holds out for about two seconds before cracking up and falling back onto Dylan's chest. Dylan's laughing too, can't help it, and he wraps his arms lightly around Alex's waist just to hold him. Alex pushes himself up so he can smile brightly down at Dylan. "Forgot about the door," he admits.

"Me too," Dylan says, pushing Alex's hair back from his forehead. It's a mess, just like everyone else's, but Dylan kind of loves it. He loves what it represents, at least: knowing his own looks the same, knowing it's because of what they've accomplished together, what they've helped their team do.

"You're thinking sappy thoughts," Alex says, but he's not teasing. There's a soft smile on his face, and Dylan can't help but mirror it back to him.

"Maybe," he says, and he knows it sounds like an admission, but Alex doesn't call him on it. He just hums a little and moves so he's beside Dylan instead of on top of him.

"Want to shower before we crash?" he asks, throwing an arm across Dylan's waist.

Dylan nods a little. "I want to smell like us," he admits, knowing that here, now, Alex won't tease him about it.

"Yeah," Alex agrees, smiling against Dylan's shoulder. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> -that high-pitched screeching sound you hear is me stressing about/watching this game!!
> 
> -there will be one more fic in this series, whatever happens in the game. contents will, obviously, differ depending on the outcome.
> 
> -[follow me on tumblr](http://somehowunbroken.tumblr.com) because i promise i'll reblog a lot of otters content. i cannot help myself. even though they all need either new dye jobs or buzz cuts, and their faces are all hilarifying. (except brinksy's; i stand by the opinion that he looks like a smol werewolf with his facial hair, and an infant without it. his can stay.)


End file.
